


525,600 minutes

by DMinus



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Edelgard's fascination with Byleth is really a crush, F/F, Mentions of Edelgard's motives, Possibly Unrequited Crush, Pre-Time Skip, Spoilers, an FE3H Secret Santa gift, change my mind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22080865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMinus/pseuds/DMinus
Summary: Spring. Summer. Fall. Winter.Seasons change and so do Edelgard's feelings for her professor.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73





	525,600 minutes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bergamot (madocallie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madocallie/gifts).



> This is for you, @bergamot_teacup! Your fanfics and fanart are a constant joy to read and marvel at. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

_Harpstring Moon_

_Spring_

Determined, studious and disciplined.

Three words that Edelgard von Hresvelg had carefully and continuously carved into her own being. She always stood a little taller than her classmates. Her chin raised a fraction higher, her shoulders pulled back just a smidge more. As the future Emperor of the Adrestian Empire, she needed to behave like one – poise and deportment heavily emphasised and cultivated with the help of her retainer, Hubert.

However, there was more than met the eye when it came to the role of an Emperor. An Emperor could not simply behave like one, no, they had to think like one. As a result, Edelgard often found herself nose-deep in numerous scrolls and books, deciphering past strategies used by leaders who made use of diminishing resources to triumph against their enemies. As the ninth child of the Hresvelg family, Edelgard was never subjected to studying the art of war. Instead, she was taught the merry joys of dancing from her sisters, the delicate intricacies of embroidery from her mother, and the occasional carefree roughhousing from her brothers.

If she could, Edelgard would choose to live in her childhood in ignorant bliss and innocence, enjoying the little time she had with her family.

Alas, life never did lead the way she wanted it to and here she was, cooped up in the corner of Garreg Mach Monastery’s library, several books stacked on top of one another, her glove stained with black ink as she scrawled mock war strategies on a map of Fodlan. Despite the circumstances of what the future held for her, Edelgard did find a silver lining behind crafting strategies and found that she enjoyed it very much. On occasion, she would be playing board games with Hubert (and eventually, Claude, whom she only invited after being issued glib challenges).

As Edelgard continued to work her mind in winning the mock battle she had created, the sound of two excited voices knocked her concentration.

“…Whose devotion and loyalty enabled his best friend, Loog, to become king. He went to great lengths to see things through,” a voice, whom she recognised to be Ingrid’s, chirped.

Edelgard glanced away from what she was doing and observed her classmates, Ingrid and Ashe, conversing animatedly about noble and courageous knights fulfilling their duties. While she never shared her classmates’ fascination with exaggerated chronicles of how friendship could win against all odds in fierce wars, Edelgard did see the appeal behind such grand tales of heroic knights and fearless leaders.

“Do you think the professors would make great knights like Kyphon?” Ashe questioned, his green eyes shimmering with hope.

“Admittedly, I am unable to see Professor Manuela as a dignified knight of legend,” Ingrid giggled.

Her unspoken thoughts completely understood by Ashe (and Edelgard as she eavesdropped). While there was no doubt that Professor Manuela was an impressive magic user, the stories Edelgard had heard about her teacher’s alcoholic tendencies were frightening and worrying, to say the least.

“Considering how much Professor Hanneman nags and talks about crests, he would make a better advisor than a knight,” Ashe wondered aloud as he rested his thumb and finger on his chin.

Ingrid shook her head in disagreement.

“Hanneman would make an incredible knight. Despite his quarrels with Professor Manuela, he has thrown himself in the heat of battle to save her from impending harm many times,” she pointed out.

As Ingrid continued her defence of Hanneman and his candidacy in knightlihood, Edelgard turned her attention away from the two and returned to what she had been doing.

“What about Professor Byleth?”

Edelgard’s ears perked up at the mention of Byleth’s name. Whatever focus she had initially was now rapidly slipping away.

“I never thought about Professor Byleth. She seems so quiet and distant,” she heard Ingrid mulled out loud.

“You could say that’s part of her charm – an aloof and selfless mercenary who finds herself burdened with the responsibility of protecting Fodlan’s future. She bravely puts herself in front of the bandits’ blades and strikes every one of them down as she saves three of the continent’s future great leaders,” Ashe mused.

Ingrid could not hide the smirk plastered on her face. “Are you idolising the professor now, Ashe?”

“It is difficult not to, especially after hearing the way His Highness had spoken about it! How she flung the bandit leader across the field with a swing of her sword and led them to victory without so much as a scratch on their uniforms.”

Edelgard closed her eyes as she vividly recalled the events of what had transpired that day.

Claude, devious and cunning, had unknowingly thrown her plans into disarray when he chose to run away from the bandits alone. Fate would have it that they run into a mercenary group led by the Blade Breaker himself. As they sought help from the mercenaries, Edelgard remembered the first time the professor’s piercing blue eyes met her violet ones.

Although there was nothing but nonchalance expressed on her face, beneath the professor’s eyes bore something Edelgard could not seem to put her finger on. Something familiar. And yet, somehow, she felt oddly calmed by the professor’s melancholic gaze – her annoyance with Claude’s retreat had momentarily dissipated.

The battle had begun and ended swiftly, much to her surprise. Perhaps Kostas and his lackeys were overly paid for the quality of service they provided.

Despite herself, Edelgard had carelessly placed herself unguarded against Kostas. With her axe nowhere in sight, she quickly unsheathed her dagger and steeled herself to defeat the very man she had hired to do her job.

Her breaths quickened as Kostas sprinted across the field with his axe brandished.

In the blink of an eye, the professor had placed herself in front of Edelgard and parried Kostas’ blow effectively. Needless to say, Edelgard was left dumbfounded. She never imagined there would be others who would selflessly put their own lives at stake in order to save those of others. She told herself, all those years ago, that nobody like that could ever exist, that is, until she met the professor.

Byleth Eisner.

An unlikely comrade.

A troublesome inconvenience.

An unforeseen pawn in a game of chess she had started and meticulously planned – from its beginnings to its ends. Only this time, she could no longer foretell what was to come next.

A queen, a rook, a bishop or a knight – only time would tell what kind of purpose Byleth would serve in the future upon Edelgard’s board.

“Oh, that’s the bell! We should get to class before Professor Manuela does,” Ashe exclaimed, disrupting Edelgard’s thoughts.

“That’s not going to be difficult at all,” Ingrid sighed as they began to walk out of the library together.

The bells continued to chime as Edelgard felt a rise of panic at the thought of being late for class. She had carelessly let herself be distracted by her own thoughts and now she was never going to hear the end of it from the rest of the Black Eagles. She could hear Hubert’s lecture already.

_“Lady Edelgard, as the future Emperor of the Adrestian Empire, a manner of decorum is expected of you. Tardiness only makes you the target of Caspar’s future excuses to not attend classes on time.”_

Once the desk had been tidied, Edelgard quickly made her way out and jogged through the hallway. She hoped the professor was not going to be there before she was.

The moment she climbed down the flight of stairs, she felt her hope immediately dashed by the haphazard rain in front of her. There was no way she could get to the cathedral unscathed and dry without an umbrella.

“Of all the damn times for choir practice,” Edelgard cursed softly, her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose.

Edelgard had a decision to make: she could sprint across the bridge and reach the cathedral, wet, cold and humiliated, or she could wait for the rain to dissipate, risking Hubert’s stern lecture and her classmates’ incessant teasing about her one-and-only-time of being late for a class.

As she stood beneath the sheltered canopy and weighed her options, Edelgard allowed herself a moment of respite. The steady rhythm of the drops reminded her of many things – her father’s drumming of his fingers as he sat atop his throne, her sisters’ tapping of their feet as they danced, and most of all, her own heart beating defiantly against her chest.

Edelgard rested a hand on her chest and felt the thumping heartbeat emanating from it. Each thud was an unspoken reminder of the sacrifices made to keep her feet standing where she was.

A promise she made, a promise she vowed to keep. No matter the consequences.

“Edelgard?” a voice spoke up behind her.

Edelgard, taken by surprise, whipped her head around to meet the last person she had expected to be here with her.

“Oh, Professor!” she sputtered. “I wasn’t expecting you to be late for choir practice too.”

“Neither was I. I had to retrieve an umbrella from the office once I saw the dark clouds had set in,” Byleth scratched the back of her head.

“I’d risk running across the bridge without one but…” she continued, drawing out the word. “I’d rather not have to engage in another hour-long session of why appearances are important as a Garreg Mach professor with Seteth.”

Edelgard chuckled. It seemed like they were both in the same boat then. It was a shame Hubert and Seteth did not talk to each other as much as they did – they were definitely two sides of the same coin.

“If it’s okay with you, would you like to share an umbrella with me?” Byleth asked as she pushed her umbrella open.

“I…” Hesitation seemed to grip her. “Yes, thank you.”

Silence grew between the two once they began to walk across the bridge, umbrella held in Byleth’s hand. Nothing but the drumming of the rain and the splattering of their footsteps filled the air.

When their shoulders touched, Edelgard felt her skin prickle with awareness – she had never been this close in proximity with the professor before. She shot a sideways glance at Byleth, wondering if the latter had felt the same way as she did. Alas, the professor was a master of hiding her emotions, never knitting her brow too tightly nor curling her mouth enough to show any hint of expression.

Although that was the case, Edelgard had learnt how to read the professor’s feelings. While many would have classified Byleth as non-feeling, Edelgard knew otherwise. When she was happy, she would crinkle her eyes in delight. When she was confused, they would widen an imperceptible amount. When she was upset, a little pout would form on her lips.

Still, she could not entirely figure out the kind of person Byleth really was. Was she as cold-hearted as her nickname, the Ashen Demon, suggested? Out to spill nothing but blood and chaos whilst doing anything necessary to achieve her means?

No, Edelgard knew that was not true. She had seen the effort Byleth had put in order to get to know the entire Black Eagles better.

How she would take the time to sit down and have a cup of tea with Ferdinand, always listening, never interrupting, no matter how much he had to say.

How she would invite Bernadetta to meals with her, the table set up with dishes of her favourite kind to make her as comfortable as possible.

How she would grow and gift flowers that were Edelgard’s favourite; carnations of the most radiant colours she had ever seen.

The professor was kind, attentive and thoughtful – there was no doubt about that.

Edelgard would daresay the professor was adorable in her own unique way.

“Is there something on my face?” Byleth asked.

Edelgard bit the inside of her cheek. Perhaps she had been staring at the professor for a bit too long.

“No. I apologise, Professor. I was simply thinking about you.”

“You were thinking about me?” An eyebrow quirked up at the statement.

Edelgard felt her cheeks redden. She should have better phrased her words.

“I was thinking about how well you’ve adapted into your role as a professor despite having no prior experience. I must admit, while I had faith in your teaching abilities, I had doubts you would be able to calm such a disorderly and boisterous class like ours,” Edelgard chuckled at the thought of the Black Eagles’ first meeting with the professor.

“But you did and have gone above and beyond to ensure we were all learning and growing alongside you,” she continued.

Byleth hummed in response, the corner of her lips tugged into a light smile. Even the professor was not immune to the power of praise. The rare sight of her smile tugged at Edelgard’s heartstrings – as if it were a prize only for her to know and keep.

They continued to walk in silence, steps in sync, shoulders occasionally bumping, until they reached the entrance of the cathedral.

“Thank you, professor,” Edelgard said. “For the umbrella and for choosing to lead the Black Eagles. I… cannot imagine what it would’ve been like for us without you here.”

“There is nothing to thank for. I’m glad I chose to be here too,” Byleth replied.

Before Edelgard could turn to walk into the cathedral, she noticed that the professor’s left shoulder was drenched while she had remained completely untouched by the rain.

“Is something the matter?” Byleth asked as she wiped the stray droplets off her pauldron.

Selfless as ever, the professor.

“No,” Edelgard answered. Her eyes fixated on the wet sleeve of the professor’s coat.

Something in the air had changed between them that afternoon.


End file.
